


Pretty Woman Had No Sequel

by Chaz_1789



Series: Rules Meant To Be Broken [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Dean POV, High School Student Dean, Homophobic Language, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Sex Worker Castiel, Shameless Smut, briefly, they're both seventeen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 12:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaz_1789/pseuds/Chaz_1789
Summary: A week after his mind was blown (well, not just his mind) Dean meets Cas again and learns that life ain't a movie, but it can still be full of surprises.





	Pretty Woman Had No Sequel

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to I'm No Julia Roberts, and will make more sense if you read that first.

Dean pulled up outside his house and let out a sigh. He'd not actually expected to follow through with his initial plan. And now that he had. Well.

He expected to feel dirty.

Dirty because he'd been with a man or because that man had been a prostitute. Either. Both. But...he didn't. He actually felt a bit lighter. He'd been wrestling over this whole thing for months, wondering whether it was a phase, wondering if any of his friends or family could tell, trying to think of a way he could be sure.

Because he still liked girls – boy howdy, did he still like girls. All soft curves and sexy hips and pretty faces. Yeah, he was _not_ short on ladies with whom he could have some serious fun times. But he had also become aware of how closely he watched Dr Sexy, strutting around in his cowboy boots.

There had been a porn video. Just part of his usual browsing, a threesome, but apparently someone hadn't tagged it very thoroughly because a couple minutes in one of the dudes quit paying attention to the busty brunette and started paying it to the other guy. That had been a surprise! He hadn't clicked off though, in fact he watched the whole thing. _But_ , he'd reasoned with himself, he hadn't been actively looking for it, so it didn't count.

However from that point on he did find himself straying into porn with more guys, then after a few months the bisexual porn, then eventually just full blown gay porn until he'd freaked out a bit and stayed away from porn altogether for a while. After blitzing his internet history that was. Thoroughly.

There were guys at school too. None of his friends, thank fuck, and no one over whom he was drooling, but a couple of times when they'd pass, his eyes would wander to a set of strong masculine shoulders or their narrow hips. The sight of a good jawline on anyone, male or female, was a sure-fire way to catch his eye and that, Dean thought, Cas'd had in spades. In fact, that was the first time he may have been close to drooling.

The guy was straight (or not-so-straight) up gorgeous. Chiselled jaw, strong nose, pretty lips, dazzling smile with a hint of mischief that got Dean's blood boiling. Just the memory of what they'd done in the backseat, coupled with the fact that the Impala still smelled like sex, was already giving Dean another semi. He shifted on his seat.

He'd wanted confirmation as to whether he would enjoy physically being with a guy as much as a girl, whether it was just an aesthetic thing or an abstract kind of attraction. But no, he'd loved every second, every touch, every muscle. Every single kiss and gasp and groan and he was already craving more. So. He was definitely bisexual.

Thing was, he'd kinda hoped he wouldn't be.

His old man was not the most...open minded of people. Dean couldn't count the number of times he'd sworn at the tv calling someone a 'fucking fag' or a 'pansy'. He and his hunting buddies threw gay jokes around like they were the last bastion of comedy. There was no way John Winchester would ever accept his eldest, athlete son as anything other than straight. Dean didn't want to disappoint him, or make him angry. When John hit the bottle things could get...unpleasant.

And then there was his school. None of the queer kids ever really 'came out', and any of the ones he suspected were gay he knew got bullied unmerciful. His friends' and team mates' vocabularies tended to share a fair few points of commonality with his dad's. They weren't bad guys, any of them really, even his dad wasn't necessarily a bad guy, it was just...

He sighed again and thunked his head against the steering wheel, trying to wrap his mind around the night's events. This had already been a dumbass, risky move, one he shouldn't have made but after meeting Cas, who was he kidding, he was already planning his next weekend around getting to see him. He wondered which motels in that district might rent by the hour without ID.

— – - • - – —

Saturday rolled around again and Dean found himself on the drive to Axel's, stupidly, just as nervous as the first time. Although this time he knew who he'd be meeting. Plus he had a plan. He'd sort of spent the entirety of last week making sure he and Cas would have somewhere to go. He'd been pulling extra shifts helping Bobby at the scrapyard too, to make up the cash. He grimaced to think of what his dad would say if he knew how he was gonna spend all this money. But it was _his_ money, he'd earned it, so he'd do whatever the hell he wanted with it. And he wanted to do Cas.

He drove right into the bar's parking lot this time and grinned as he saw Cas catch his eye, obviously recognizing the car, and walk on over. Dean couldn't help his eyes lingering on the way Cas's jeans pulled over his thighs as he walked. They were good thighs. Strong thighs. His mouth watered a bit. Cas rounded the hood and swung into the passenger seat.

"It's been too long," Cas said, smiling.

"It's been a week."

"It's been a long week," he replied, smile widening. Dean couldn't suppress his answering grin. "You taking me somewhere nice?"

"Dunno 'bout nice, but it should be discreet. And it has beds."

"Sounds perfect to me then."

Dean followed the directions on his phone to the motel he'd checked out. They pulled up in the mostly empty lot. "It definitely ain't the Ritz," he mumbled out as they exited his car, taking in the almost cliché flickering vacancy sign and weathered siding.

"Well, let's just hope they have sturdy bed frames, huh?" Cas flashed him that insanely hot smile yet again, coupled with a wink, and Dean's insides both heated and flipped, like some kind of libido pancake. They walked into a dingy reception area where a middle aged woman with short curls sat at the front desk. Her eyes slid up from her book and she regarded them with a knowing look.

Dean fought valiantly to push through the cloying embarrassment as he stepped up to the desk and asked, "Two hours in a double if you got one," trying to sound like he was cool, did this all the time.

"Sure thing, Sugar. That's thirty, cash only." Dean dug the money out of his pocket and laid it on the counter. He noticed the woman's attention flicker to Cas, who was standing a couple of feet behind Dean and a tiny smile graced her lips. Dean tried very hard not to blush but hopefully the lighting in this place was so shit she wouldn't notice anyway. He took the key and they made their way to the room.

"Well, I gotta be honest...I kinda expected worse," Dean said as they flicked on the light. It didn't smell terrible and it looked a reasonable standard of clean.

He felt warm hands snake around his waist from behind and with them a fantastic rush of excitement. Cas's fingers wriggled their way under his shirt and across the skin of his lower belly sending sparks in their wake and the solid, masculine presence at his back reminded Dean of just what he was about to do. Well, he might not know all the steps to this dance, but he was a fast learner with excellent rhythm.

Dean turned around in Cas's arms and crowded him back against the door. In the light of the room Dean noticed that his eyes were an arresting shade of blue. It'd been too dark in the Impala to see that last time but there they were. They were kinda...hypnotizing. After a time Cas coughed deliberately. Oh shit, he'd been just staring like a godamn moron.

"So, Dean" Cas began in a low voice, "have you fucked girls before?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to fuck me?"

"God, yes," said Dean, barely containing his excitement.

"Good." Cas smiled that dazzling smile. It must help with business to have a smile like that, but still, it seemed genuine. Dammit he was really attractive. There was no maybe about whether Dean wanted him, the way he was already beginning to harden in his boxers made that clear. And, fuck, he was staring again. He cleared his throat.

"How mu–" he began, but was unable to finish on account of Cas pressing his mouth against Dean's, then slipping his tongue in to taste him, gliding in smooth and sensuous. Dean's head went a bit cloudy after that. Cas's hands slipped round to his back, smoothing over the skin there and ran his nails lightly down it. Dean wrapped his hands around Cas and pulled their bodies flush together, deepening the kiss and he sank into the wonderful feeling of making out with Cas again.

In silent assent they both began to undress each other, shrugging out of jackets, stripping off shirts and kicking off pants, whilst attempting to keep kissing as much as possible during these activities. When they were both in their skivvies Dean walked Cas backwards until his knees hit the bed and he toppled onto the mattress.

Dean took a second to really just soak in that visual. Cas lying, arms out, mostly naked except for a pair of tight black boxer briefs that were doing a whole loada nothing to conceal his arousal. He'd been right, those thighs were things of fucking beauty.

Wasting no more time not touching, Dean lowered himself to brace above Cas, noting how Cas had this blush just over his sternum and nowhere else. Dean got a bit fizzy at the thought he'd made Cas blush. He slotted their legs and hips together as he dipped in for another kiss (damn, he was so grateful Cas broke this rule) and rolled his whole body against the flat planes of Cas; so different from the girls he'd been with. Cas broke away with a playful nip to Dean's lower lip.

"Is there– do you wanna try anything specific tonight?" asked Cas, sounding less like a consummate professional and more like the teenager he surely was.

Dean mulled the question over. Thing was, the list of things he wanted to do to Cas was kinda endless; it was tough trying to pick out specifics. A thought struck him.

"How about this: What do you wanna do to me?" he said.

A gleam sparked devilishly in Cas's eyes. "Would you like to know what rimming feels like?"

"Jesus, you tryin'a kill me here, Cas?" Dean groaned, grinding his body down again and feeling the hot, hard length of Cas against the divot of his hip. Rimming was one of those things he just never thought any of his partners would want to do for him, so he'd relegated it to the 'probably never gonna happen' pile of fantasies. And here it was just being offered up like pie. Fuck, this guy was amazing.

"I'll take that as a yes," Cas replied with a gasp and a smile. He pushed Dean up slightly and rolled away so that he could reach his discarded pants. As Cas laid on his front, Dean seized the opportunity to stroke the perfect globes of his butt. He moaned a little at how good they felt.

"Can we lose the undies?" he growled.

"Only if you lose yours," came the reply.

Dean grinned, hooked his thumbs under the elastic of Cas's briefs and smoothly whipped them down his legs. "Can do." Cas chuckled.

As Dean stood briefly to remove his underwear Cas rummaged around in his pockets and withdrew about six condoms ( _Christ_ , what was he expecting?), sachets of lube and a small pair of scissors. He dropped all foil packets on the bed, bar one.

"Here's a nifty trick." He took out the rubber, snipped off the tip and then cut the ring of it, unrolled it and held it up.

"And that is...?" asked Dean, kneeling in the bed once more.

"Makeshift dental dam...protection."

"Oh, uh, I'm clean you know."

"Don't take offence or anything, I'm kinda the poster boy for safe sex."

"Where'd you learn–"

"I'm not an idiot, I did my research before I got into this line of work. Now roll over onto your stomach."

With not a little trepidation Dean did as he was told. Cas pulled his hips up so that Dean was baring himself instead of lying flat and he tried not think about just how exposed he was right now.

A warm breath caressed between his cheeks and lit up nerve endings he didn't even know he had in anticipation. He jerked a little as a finger smeared a small amount of lube over his rim, skating a few light circles there. That felt kinda amazing. Then he felt the thin rubber settle over him. Oh shit. This was really happening.

The heat of Cas's tongue cut right through the cool barrier. It was– it was...fuck, it was awesome! The pressure was light to start with, gentle flicks and twirls, contrasting with the firm grip Cas had on his cheeks. Then wide, hot licks interspersed the teasing, followed by more solid pressure and gentle nips. One of Cas's hands slid down and a thumb stroked then pressed down on his perrineum while his tongue kept up it's work.

Dean groaned. Groaned long and low and blissed out. His cock was hanging heavy between his legs, throbbing, leaking even though it wasn't being touched. But that was okay, he might shoot off if Cas touched his dick right now. There was almost a 'close but no cigar' kind of pleasure from the combined pressure of Cas's tongue on his hole and Cas's thumb on his taint; it felt great but it was almost a prelude to even more. Cas slowed down, easing off everywhere until he pulled off, grazing a gentle bite on Dean's right cheek as he did so. He felt the latex he'd kind of forgotten about get removed and the chill of the air caused him to shiver all over, and not in a bad way.

"So, that seemed to go down well. Awful pun intended."

"Fuck," was all Dean could say or think for a moment. Then another thought steamrollered over that one. "Can I do that to you?" he asked urgently.

"Uh," said Cas sounding a bit surprised, "yeah, sure." They switched positions and once Cas was the one on his knees and Dean armed with another unfurled condom, he just took in the sight of Cas for a minute. On his knees like this his gorgeous, strong thighs and pert ass were on full display. Dean ran a hand up Cas's leg and squeezed one cheek firmly. Cas made a small happy noise at this so Dean did it again.

"You're fucking gorgeous," he let out on a breathy sigh. And just because he could, he ran kisses over every bit of Cas he wanted. Up his legs, over his ass, across his back and shoulders; his skin tasted so good. A faint shudder ran through the body he was bending over as he continued to kiss and lick and nip.

"Now _you're_ the one trying to kill _me_ ," came Cas's growl, sounding not very put together. Dean chuckled in response, but instead of saying anything he chose to deploy a move he might have stolen from porn and ran his tongue down the ridges of Cas's spine. Right from the back of his neck down to the dip of his lumbar and then to the crease of his perfect ass, pausing only to make sure the dam was in place, then further down, until his tongue was resting on a small puckered ridge.

Cas hummed. Dean ran his tongue over the whorled furls of muscle, loving the feel of it, loving the difference between this and going down on a girl. He did his best to copy what Cas had done to him and the noises he was getting in response pretty much seemed to confirm that was the right way to go about it. As his thumb rested on the taut skin above Cas's balls and pressed down, Cas's vocalisation went about an octave higher than before.

"Put a finger in me Dean," Cas moaned from the mattress, "please. Open me up."

 _Fuck_. "Okay." Dean fumbled a bit with the packets on the bed as he slicked up two of his fingers. Trying to control his breathing he slid one lubed up finger against Cas's entrance, circled, then pushed a little. The muscle gave way and he sank into Cas's blistering heat. It was a snug fit, to say the least. He slowly pumped in and out, and Cas groaned.

"That's good, crook your finger, aim down." He did and felt a firm section of inner wall. Cas keened and moaned, "yes, that's it. God yes. Keep going." So Dean repeated stroking that point (which he surmised was Cas's prostate) and just went with whatever eked out the best reactions. He treated it like he would a G-spot and that seemed to earn him a lot of great noises, steadily getting breathier.

"Another," he heard Cas pant, and Dean obliged. Cas felt tight and amazing and Dean was kinda hypnotized by the way he writhed and moved under Dean's hands, stretching beautifully. After another two minutes of working his fingers into Cas, he heard the same request.

"You sure?"

"Oh yeah, I'm gonna need it; I know what kinda heat you're packing."

Crap, his face was burning. He really wished Cas would stop complimenting him. Like, he knew he wasn't _small_ , but he didn't think he was anything special, in any regard really. But, in went a third digit (carefully) and the sounds Cas made around his slick fingers were just spectacularly filthy.

He circled his thumb, still applying pressure, before he ghosted his hand down Cas's sack and onto his dick, hanging full and flush beneath him. As Dean closed his fist around his length, Cas groaned and shifted slightly on his knees. Dean noted a slight quake.

"Alright, enough," Cas breathed, "on your back."

After carefully withdrawing and wiping his fingers on the comforter (hey, that's what the cleaning staff get paid for) he lay back on the pillows. Cas was kneeling up and looking hot as hell. Hair disheveled, cock hard and straining upwards, a flush spread from the top of his head and dispersing out just above his abs; He looked stunning. Better than the hottest porn star, better than anything. Dean had struck fucking lucky.

As Cas swung a leg over to straddle Dean, he met Cas's eyes. There was this...this pull he felt, staring into those deep blues. He was already wound up, but he felt the tension crank up a couple of notches in his stomach as, after a long moment, Cas leaned down and kissed him, soft but deep. But before Dean could tangle his fingers in that thick dark hair like he wanted to, Cas was pulling back, kneeling up and reaching for another condom. He rolled it on and added some more lube, before raising himself up and angling Dean's dick. Then he just sank straight down onto it.

 _Oooooohfuckyessss_.

Everything just stopped for a minute. Neither of them moved as they both took in what they were feeling. Dean, for one, felt fucking fantastic. Cas was hot, slick and tight – like, 'any tighter and it would be painful but right now it's just sort of heaven' tight. There was warm pressure where Cas's palms rested on Dean's chest but the rest of him prickled with goosebumps, hypersensitized to everything. Cas hadn't looked away as he'd mounted Dean, didn't look away now, and Dean felt exposed, but not really because he was naked.

Dean ran his hands over the taut muscles of Cas's thighs as they spread across his hips, up, over the softer skin in the dents of his hips, over as much of Cas's stunning body as he could reach. And, still holding his gaze, Dean made the tiniest circle with his own hips. Barely a movement –he didn't want to hurt Cas– just enough to reaffirm to Dean's nerve endings how thoroughly they were connected.

Cas did break eye contact then, but only to moan loudly and tilt his head back. His throat looked so eminently kissable. Not for the first time this week Dean just marvelled at what he'd been missing out on until now; although, until a week ago, he'd not met the single sexiest guy in existence. But then that guy began grinding his hips back and forth and Dean's brain stopped doing that thing where it thought in sentences and thought more in grunts. Happy grunts.

Cas was rocking on his lap now, staring down at Dean with those crazy blue eyes, undulating, exposed, clearly trying to put on a show. But Dean didn't want a show, he wanted _contact_. He snaked a hand up Cas's side and pulled him down for a kiss before rolling them both over. He met those intense blues and kissed him again, then he gently rolled his hips, felt Cas' legs tighten around his waist and did it again. He buried his face into Cas' neck and struck up a steady rhythm.

Cas let out a strangled kind of whine and wrapped his arms around Dean's back too, which he took as a good sign. Blunt nails were digging into his skin and he knew that generally that meant he was doing okay, but he wouldn't settle for just okay. He wanted Cas to feel as fucking euphoric as he was feeling, buried in his tight heat.

"This...okay?" Dean panted out.

"P–pillow," moaned Cas.

"Huh?"

"Pillow, under my hips," he said, reaching up to grab one. Dean snagged it and drew gingerly out of Cas so that they could arrange the pillow properly. Once it was sorted, Cas wrapped his arms and legs once more around Dean's middle and smiled almost shyly. It was in such stark contrast to the cocky, seductive front he'd worn so far, it took Dean aback. But he echoed the smile and then, with a gentle pressure, pushed back into Cas.

Dean moved, slowly to start with, testing their limits. The elevation of his hips seemed to improve the angle immensely because now Cas was cursing repeatedly under his breath as Dean thrust into him. He worked at steadily increasing the depth, as this seemed to also increase the rate of profanities turning the air blue. Cas sought out his lips and they shared deep, wet, open mouthed kisses as Dean struck harder and deeper on each stroke. But still slow.

"Ohfuckohfuck, _Dean_ ," the way Cas said his name was dangling a match dangerously close to the gasoline that was his self restraint right now. He just _really_ didn't want to hurt him, more than he wanted to give into his base instinct to fuck hard and fast.

As if reading his mind, Cas put his mouth to Dean's ear and muttered huskily, "You won't hurt me, Dean. Go for it, please, it's so good..." A shiver ran all the way down to Dean's toes at Cas's words. He anchored his feet in the sheets and hooked a hand over one of Cas's shoulders for leverage; then he went for it. Used all the muscles he built up from football and wrestling to follow his libido and plow Cas into the mattress.

The sound Cas released was a long groan interspersed with cut off silences at each strong slam of Dean into his body. As Dean pounded, the pressure built, a tightening coil in his gut as they moaned and gasped and thrust together. The end was in sight, they were both getting less coordinated, more desperate; less controlled and more frantic.

They were both shaking against each other now, panting desperately as they moved. Both just hanging in there, a hair's breadth from the edge. And all of it – the shaking, the shared breath, the sweat, the heat – all of it zeroed Dean's whole world down to just this. Just Cas. And the world was so fucking beautiful right now.

He slipped his hand down between their rolling bodies, slick with perspiration, and took Cas in hand.

"Wait–" Cas croaked out, sounding utterly broken, "I'll come if–" Dean didn't let him finish. He thrust his tongue into Cas' mouth once more, at the same moment he moved both his hand and his hips. The sound he swallowed from Cas was the stuff of the best porn and the filthiest personal fantasies. It was a kind of groan-slash-cry that preceded his whole body stiffening and clenching beautifully around Dean. He released his lips as Cas juddered again, gasping for breath and hot, slick, white wetness coated Dean's fist and shot up Cas's flushed torso, landing as far as his chin. Watching Cas come like that while Dean was buried inside him was, unquestionably, the sexiest thing he'd ever seen and, as Cas's internal muscles fluttered again he let out a plaintiff " _Dean!_ "

And Dean was a goner. Burning into his orgasm with a ferocity he'd never known, his head fell into Cas' shoulder to muffle the roar of ecstasy he couldn't hold back. Pressure that'd been clenched deep in his groin released in a cathartic explosion. Pleasure pulsed through him like the world's best drug as he emptied himself inside Cas, his hips stuttering an uneven rhythm, and reality whited out.

He came to, braced shakily on his elbows above Cas, brain swimming, still unable to connect any dots. Or even see dots. He was seeing twinkly, blinking stars though. Jesus, that had been intense. He blinked his eyes into focus and regarded Cas, laying there flushed and wrecked beneath him, looking for all the world like he was about to pass out. On quivering arms, Dean lowered his lips to Cas's, leaving a sweet, lingering kiss there. Cas sort of responded, moving his lips a little, uncoordinated, appearing to be on a bit of a delay.

Still shaking, Dean pinched the bottom of the condom and very gently eased himself out of Cas. He thanked whatever prescient staff decided to leave tissue boxes on the nightstand as he disposed of the condom without having to leave the bed and used another tissue to wipe off his hand. He turned to Cas, feeling his chest swell slightly at the picture he made; still lying where he had been, sated and sleepy, shining with sweat and come in the low light.

He looked peaceful. And gorgeous. And kind of perfect. Dean shifted over and, as softly as he could, cleaned off the remnants of Cas' orgasm from his torso with a fresh tissue. Equally gently, Dean slid the pillow out from underneath him too. Cas barely stirred, but once Dean had finished and was on his back, Cas rolled over with a groan and slotted against Dean's side, an arm slung heavily across his body.

It felt pretty awesome. Hell, this right here was _all_ of the awesome. Fuck, he was so tired. He could feel all the muscles in his body twitching like they did after an intense workout. His legs were pure jelly, his head was thick with post–really–good–sex hormones and he had a sexy, gloriously naked Cas snuggled up to him. Dean fell asleep feeling about as good as he had ever done in his whole life.

 

— – - • - – —

  
  
Birds could go fuck themselves. Birds could just go flap their feathery little asses right into the fiery pits of Tartarus.

As first thoughts in the morning went, it wasn't exactly tranquil, but those birds were really fucking loud. As Dean rolled over, feeling the cheap sheets rub against his bare skin, reality settled in like concrete. He was at the motel, the bed which had been so warm and comfortable with Cas in it was now cool and empty, apart from Dean.

Disappointment warred with panic as Dean was bitch–slapped awake and leapt from the bed.

He had definitely not planned to stay here all night! His dad might kill him – he needed to do damage control. Trying to ignore the cold loneliness in his stomach and staggering over to his jeans on legs that were still only half sure of what their job entailed, he fished in the pockets for his phone. Quickly he dialled for home.

 _Hello?_ said a familiar prepubescent voice. Dean breathed a teensy bit easier.

"Hey there, Sammy," he said, trying to sound innocent.

_Wow, I didn't think you existed in the physical realm this early in the morning, Dean. Especially on a Sunday._

"Ha freakin' ha, Squirt. Is Dad there?"

 _In the sense that he is passed out on the couch, yeah._ Sam sounded resigned.

"Did...did he even notice I didn't come home?" Dean asked, despondently. His panic shifted into something that was almost disappointment.

 _I think he was out cold before he really could,_ said Sam almost apologetically. Dean winced. Sam shouldn't ever have to apologize for the state of their father.

"You think you could run interference with him if he wakes up before I get back? Tell him I was at Victor's last night."

_You weren't at Victor's, Dean. You were doing something you shouldn't._

"How do you know that?"

 _Because this is you, and I'm fourteen not_ lobotomized.

"Look, could you just do this for me?"

_What's in it for me?_

"I promise I'll drive you to whatever weird symposium, lecture or jamboree you wanna go to next weekend. Deal?"

_Even if it's in Wichita?_

"Oh, for the love of– _fine_ , yes, even if it's there," Dean growled out, grudgingly.

 _Then we have a deal,_ replied Sam chirpily. _Later, Dean, try not to catch anything._

"Bitch."

 _Jerk._ And then the phone went dead.

"Smart-ass is learning a little too well," Dean muttered to himself as he searched the room for his passionately discarded underpants. As he pulled his jacket up off the chair he saw something flutter to the floor. He blinked.

Two crumpled twenties lay on the shitty carpet. Oh yeah. Money. He'd scrambled together a couple hundred from his savings before coming out, not knowing how much it would come to, but...

He never paid Cas!

He didn't even find out how much he owed. Maybe Cas took the rest of Dean's cash while he was unconscious. Dean checked all his pockets: nothing missing, two hundred big ones still folded neatly in is inside pocket (not difficult to find). And he was forty bucks up...which was...exactly what he'd paid for the blowjob last week...

He stood there for a minute, trying to make sense of shit. Dean may have never hired a hooker before but he was pretty sure this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

He ventured out of the room, still confused, to the front desk which was occupied by the same stern looking middle aged lady as last night. Woman must run on batteries or something.

"I just charged you the nightly rate on top of the rest, cheaper than the hourly, seeing as you boys didn't seem to be coming back out," she said kindly as he approached.

"Oh. Er, thanks," he felt heated embarrassment rise up to his face again. "So how much do I owe you?"

"Hmm? No, the bill was paid by the other young gentleman this morning."

In a state of utter bewilderment he thanked her again and strolled out of the motel into the parking lot, his muscles twinging viciously as he approached Baby. He slumped into the driver's seat.

Dean was very, _very_ confused. But also something else. Hopeful? Flattered? Was it weird to be flattered? It was weird to be hopeful – and goddamn stupid. There wasn't exactly anything to be hopeful about. Cas was a professional. He was _supposed_ to be good at this, so he was. He'd made Dean feel in-fucking-credible, so...job well done. And Cas...well, he was going to have other clients. That thought sat about as well as rancid milk within him. _Ugh!_ The purpose of this adventure was to fuck a guy, definitely not to get _feelings_ involved. Dean thumped the steering wheel with the heel of his hand.

Maybe...maybe he just handed out freebies every now and then to a charity case, Dean rationalized. Maybe that's what it was. Probably. Maybe. 

He ignored the twist in his gut and the voice in his head that told him that was incredibly unlikely, seeing as it was the same voice that was also whispering things like _'maybe he likes you'_. Those were dangerous things to think. Buck up, Dean. Buck up, and drive home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to all the lovely readers who requested a part two! I hope this is to your liking. There may be some notes made for possibly part three and four...  
> Remember kudos and comments = <3 and help inspire us authors to keep writing!


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